Seven Deadly
by jremme
Summary: Booth and Sweets race against a mysterious black shadow being to get rid of the seven deadly sins, which have infected the rest of the team via the body of a strange victim. Sin related OOC-ness, and most likely a ratings increase for future chapters.
1. Questions

**A/N: Those of you who have read my fics before may recall that I had planned a supernatural-ish fic that was OOC yet…not. I had given up on it partially because of holes in my intended plot. Well, those holes have been filled! What can I say except inspiration strikes when we least expect it. That said, I do have this fic planned out now, so I'm not anticipating any writer's block. I wouldn't begin another fic since I have some that don't get updated as much as I'd like, but I don't want to lose this idea since I've been toying around with it for so long. Please enjoy!**

**Seven Deadly**

**Chapter 1: Questions**

_A breathy curse ripped from the black shadowy figure as it ran, feet pounding against the pavement and sloshing through puddles. It had the scent. How could they have gotten away again? Who knew what sort of damage had already been done, how many lives had been lost already? It shook its head. It would find them, all of them. They were together, in one place, for the time being. Who knew how long that would last? It had to find them before they separated._

**That same evening**

"Got a live one here! Well, not exactly alive, but you know what I mean."

Booth glared at the man behind him, bringing in the body with his quieter and therefore smarter colleague.

Two interested heads snapped to attention from one of the lab tables while three voices groaned quietly. "I was just about to head home," Angela said wearily. Hodgins nodded in silent agreement. It had been a long day for all of them. Brennan and Zach, on the other hand, seemed eager for a fresh case. Booth directed them to the platform.

"Looks like I get first crack," Cam voiced aloud, noting the, for lack of a better term, 'freshness' of the body.

"Where was she found?" Brennan asked.

"A few miles from here. Her name's Angela Jansen."

"Well, that's kinda creepy," Angela commented. "Am I really needed?" The poor girl was identified, and she thought she felt a cold coming on. She just wanted to curl up in bed.

"Stay until Cam's done the autopsy please Ange."

Angela relented to her friend's pleading eyes. "Fine." She shot Brennan a small smile and moved to a chair across the room. It was late, and save for them, the place was empty. The guys who'd brought in the body were dismissed and Cam began her autopsy.

While waiting, Brennan and Zach continued whatever it was they'd been doing, and Hodgins returned his eyes to his microscope. Booth wandered around aimlessly, debating whether or not to go and bug Cam. The girl hadn't suffered any external injuries that he'd noticed. In fact, she looked perfectly normal, like she'd just fallen asleep. The few witnesses had said she was just sitting on a bench against a building, doing nothing when she'd collapsed. The only strange thing had been her clothes and her dirty, bedraggled appearance, as though she hadn't changed clothes or bathed in days.

He might have thought she was homeless except for the fact that her wallet had contained a lot of plastic and, surprisingly, quite a bit of cash. Upon learning her identity and alerting her family, it was found out that said family was quite well-to-do. It was like she hadn't done _anything_ for awhile, just sitting on that bench.

Cam reappeared, a shocked look on her face, and Booth waited to hear the usual. It was a drug overdose, or she'd succumbed to some illness. He got neither.

"She's fine."

"She's dead Cam. She's not _fine_."

"Don't take that tone with me Seeley. What I mean by fine, is that there's no reason she should be dead. Aside from not functioning, her organs are in perfect condition. There's no sign of trauma, nothing."

Brennan glanced up. "That's not possible. Are you certain you conducted the autopsy correctly?"

Cam bristled a little at that. "I know how to do my job Dr. Brennan."

Brennan held her hands up in surrender and turned her attention back to a skull she and Zach were working on. "She had to die of something."

"Bones is right Cam. Something's gotta be wrong."

"Not that I can see. It's inexplicable."

The doors opened and Dr. Sweets entered. "Hello all! Just thought I'd stop by and see if everyone was doing all right."

"Could this night get any worse," Booth muttered to himself. "You shouldn't be out past curfew Sweets. Might get grounded."

"Funny…that's funny Agent Booth," Sweets mustered up a smile, and looked from one face to the next. "What?"

"We have a body that's in pristine condition," Cam explained.

"Named Angela," Angela threw in.

"No apparent cause of death," Zach added.

Sweets nodded, rubbing his chin with a hand. "Very mysterious indeed. We should investigate further."

"This isn't Sherlock Holmes Sweets. There's obviously something we missed, and we'll handle it. We don't need you yet," Booth dashed any hopes Sweets had about playing detective.

Unbeknownst to the group, in the autopsy room, a thin mist floated out of the girl's body and drifted through the open door towards the main room of the lab. It drifted unseen and was inhaled by everyone present.

Booth was about to tell Sweets more directly to get lost when he gasped as he crashed to the floor. Everything went black.

_It followed the scent to a large building and sniffed. It was much weaker now, and it could tell that it went off in different directions. Five of them. Where were the other two? Gone perhaps, rotted away by believers. If only it were true. It climbed the stairs to find out for sure._

When Booth became conscious again, he sat up, rubbing his head and looking around. The lab was empty…except for Sweets, unmoving, over by the stairs with a huge black shadow looking inside his mouth. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs, and then did a double take. He was not imagining things. He jumped to his feet, drawing his gun in the same motion and aiming it at the hulk of blackness hovering over Sweets.

"Hold it right there!" The man or whatever it was looked up and Booth saw blackness on the inside of the hood. No face, nothing. Just a void. Oh wait, scratch that. It had a circular hole, still black, but a different shade if that made any sense. After sizing him up, it chose to ignore him and continued its task, bending closer to a still out-of-it Sweets. Panic swelled inside Booth along with fear and it was those two emotions combined that made him fire. He might as well have been shooting at smoke.

He heard a hiss and a voice that sounded like it was saying 'two are no longer, five are left'. Then without a second glance, it blew out of the Jeffersonian, leaving a stunned FBI agent and an unconscious psychologist in its wake.

"What the hell was that thing?" Booth yelled out loud, then knelt by Sweets. "Sweets! Sweets! Wake up! We got problems!" No response. Booth pondered what to do, then, despite the situation, a wry grin crossed his face. He swung a hand back and slapped Sweets full on the face. That did it.

"What happened? One minute I'm talking to you guys and the next, everything goes black."

"I dunno, but everyone else is gone, and there was this black…thing hovering over you, looking in your mouth."

"My mouth?" Sweets' hand automatically went to his mouth.

"Yea, it said, 'two are no longer, five are left' and whatever it was, it wasn't human. I shot it, but it like it was made of air or something."

"Like a ghost!" Sweets said excitedly. "If such things existed, that is." He thought for a moment. "If there are five left and two are gone, then there were seven originally."

"Seven of what? We're missing people here Sweets. If it's looking for…whatever, then maybe the others are in trouble, if they aren't already." Booth was itching to do something, anything, and was quickly becoming impatient with Sweets.

"Look, we need to know what we're dealing with. Think rationally. We don't know what that thing was, what it's looking for, or even if the others have anything to do with this." Sweets wasn't ready to do anything without knowing what they were dealing with.

"Five left…two gone…The victim, Angela Jansen," Booth said suddenly.

"You think she was involved?"

"This is a stretch Sweets, but bear with me here. First off, do you believe in the soul?"

"Yes, although it hasn't been proven to actually exist. I think it was my parents who…"

"Ok, Sweets, that's enough." Booth paced as he talked, eyes darting around the empty lab as he voiced the theory. "Cam said there was no reason Angela Jansen should be dead. No _physical _reason." He looked meaningfully at Sweets until it clicked in the younger man's head.

"Her soul. You think she lost her soul, that it was taken? That's how she died?"

"Just humor me here Sweets. She was found on a bench. She'd probably been there for days. Her clothes were filthy, she hadn't bathed. She didn't do anything. Slothful, you might say. Couple that with the black thing's mathematical equation. Two plus five equals seven. Now, what does that sound like to you?"

"Sloth…seven. You don't mean the seven deadly sins? A sin killed her? How can that be? And how does that fit in with the soul thing?"

"I don't know yet. It's a theory in progress." More to himself than to Sweets, he mused, "The sin could have killed the soul, drained it. That could be the connection." He shook his head in frustration. He made no sense even to himself. This was impossible, all of it. And yet, that black thing had been impossible, but he'd seen it. And if he'd seen it and it did, in fact, exist, then maybe killer soul taking sins did too.

"And what happened to the others? Their souls didn't get taken cause they had to be alive to go out that door."

"I don't know what happened Sweets! Like I said, it's a theory."

"And whatever happened to them, didn't happen to us, cause we're still here."

"I _know_ Sweets!"

"And what was the black thing and why was he looking in my mouth?"

"Will you shut _up_ for a minute!?"

Sweets bowed in his head in contrition. "Sorry. It's just not logical, any of it."

"Look, I know it doesn't make any sense, and Bones would kill me on the spot if she heard me just now, but I don't know what else it could be. If you can come up something logical that explains everything, be my guest." He turned and headed for the doors.

"Where are you going?" Sweets called, hurrying after him.

"The only place I can think of that might have answers," he replied, striding purposefully out the doors, Sweets right behind him.

**A/N: Ok, what do you think? I'll try to keep up with this as well as my other WIP's but my semester starts the 13****th****, so we'll see. I'll try hard though. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Answers

**A/N:** **Sorry for the delay. I've been sick. Still am, but I thought as long as I'm resting, I should try to type. So, if this doesn't make a load of sense, blame it on my cold. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2: Answers**

_After running out of the big building, it sniffed the air, picking up the trail of one almost immediately. Heading east, it determined that it was Avarice, the scent mingled with that of a young man. It shook its head. It was a shame he would have to die to recapture the sin, but it was for the greater good._

Father Donald O'Neil awoke to the sound of a pounding on the front door of his church. He climbed out of bed and walked down the steps from his living quarters above. Before he did so, he snuck a glance at the bedside alarm clock. Nearly eleven p.m. He sighed quietly, holding onto the banister and making his way to the door where the pounding grew in intensity.

He flung the door open to reveal two men, both with looks of desperation on their faces. Suddenly regretting opening the door at this time of night, the Father grew apprehensive and fearful, especially after noticing the firearm one of them carried.

He gulped visibly, half closing the door to shield him in case they tried anything. They were both dressed professionally, but appearances could be deceiving. "Can I help you?" he asked, clearing his throat as his voice came out meeker than he'd intended.

"God, I hope so. Can we come in?" The one with the gun said quickly, then bit his lip, looking the priest in the eyes. Father O'Neil stepped aside, hoping he wasn't making the wrong choice.

"Thanks. C'mon Sweets," He pulled the younger man in after him, and once they were all standing inside the foyer, he made introductions.

"What do you know about the Seven Deadly Sins?" Booth asked after quickly identifying himself and Sweets to the Father.

"I know some. What is this about?" He asked the question, but he knew. He'd heard stories at seminary. Nothing official of course; stories about the sins and the thing that kept them.

Without waiting for a reply, he led them upstairs to his rooms. "Follow me. There are things that need explaining." He sat down at his desk while Booth and Sweets seated themselves on opposite ends of the bed.

"In ancient times the sins were written down for the first time. This is well known. What isn't well known is that they were also made into entities. This was extremely dangerous because each sin had the power to eat away at the soul of its host, creating an empty shell, masked as death."

"Whoa there! Masked?" Booth looked at Sweets, shock on both their faces. "Angela Jansen was still _alive_?"

"In a sense. Her internal organs would have shut down, and there would be no movement. I know it doesn't sound feasible, but think of the soul as a life force, the essence of one's being. Without it, you would be as good as dead, but yet, at the same time, not."

"An empty shell," Sweets said, echoing the priest's words. "Incapable of living as we know it, but in some form, still on this earth."

"Wait a sec. Could she still…feel?" Booth shuddered at the thought of Angela Jansen feeling Cam cutting into her for the autopsy and unable to do anything about it.

"No, empty shell, remember?" Sweets corrected, convinced that Booth still wasn't getting it.

"Sure. Continue, Father."

"Because of this danger, an entity was created to guard the sins, keep watch over them."

"That big black thing?" Booth couldn't help but ask.

"Precisely. It was charged with containing the sins and retrieving them should they ever escape."

"Well, they did, so now this Soul-keeper is after them. What happens when it finds one?"

"If the sin is inside a host, the Keeper sucks it out through the mouth, bringing it back inside itself. Because the Keeper has no soul, the sin has nothing to feed on and no strength to gain. It's trapped. The unfortunate result of this action, however, is the death of the host."

Sweets turned pale and covered his mouth again with his hand. "It was looking inside my mouth. If I'd had a sin in me, I'd be…dead?"

"Yes."

"Would the sins go inside the first host they could find?" Booth asked, already fearing the worst.

"Yes, they would seek the first soul they came across. As the soul is eaten away, the sin takes over."

"Angela Jansen on the park bench," Sweets realized. "She died because of her soul, but on the outside, it was like she died as the result of being slothful."

"Our friends are in trouble. The sins must have gone into them, and they were gone by the time the Soul-keeper showed up. How do we stop them?" Booth was about ready to pull his gun on the poor priest if he didn't get some answers to their problem soon.

"Whoa, wait a minute!" Sweets called out, earning a death glare from Booth. "How come we weren't taken over by a sin? There were seven of them, but only five of us became infected." He pointed at Booth. "You said the black thing said that two were no more."

"Are you true believers?" Father O'Neil asked.

"Meaning?"

"Do you truly believe in the existence of the immortal soul?"

He received two nods in response.

"Then that is why. The sins cannot eat away at the soul of one whose faith in its existence is strong. If it enters, the sin will shrivel up and cease to exist."

"I wonder which two we killed," Sweets mused.

"Doesn't matter. How else do we kill them without killing our friends? We gotta get rid of them before the Keeper finds them."

"That I do not know," Father O'Neil shook his head sadly.

"So, that's it? I'm supposed to just sit back and wait for this Keeper to kill them all? I can't…I can't do that. Let's go Sweets."

_It arrived at a bus stop on a street corner. The scent faded. The host had boarded a bus and the trail was covered with the smell of exhaust. The wind changed and it caught another scent. This one Envy, mixed with the scent of a female, and on foot. It walked purposefully in the direction of the scent. _

"Agent Booth!" Sweets called out after Booth as he hurried down the front steps of the church, heading who knew where. He wasn't sure what to do, or what he could do; the only thing he knew was that he had to do _something_.

Sweets barely had the car door shut before they were speeding through traffic. "Where are you going?"

"To Bones' place. See if she's there."

"And do what?"

"I don't know Sweets, _I don't know_! Something, anything!"

"We don't even know which of the sins each of them has. We need to figure out what to do."

"Father O'Neil didn't know."

"Doesn't mean we can't figure it out. Now, please pull over before you get us killed. I had one near death experience tonight; I would really like to avoid another."

Realizing that Sweets was right, Booth reluctantly complied.

"Thank you. Now, what do we know about the sins?"

"They're…well, they're sins. What are you getting at Sweets?"

"But what is a sin Agent Booth? As far as I can see, they're all feelings. We have Anger, Avarice, Envy, Lust, Gluttony, Sloth, and Pride. All emotions." Sweets held up a finger as he named each sin.

"I thought Gluttony was eating and drinking to excess. And Sloth is not doing anything. Those are actions Sweets."

"Actions that are caused by feelings. The feeling of always being hungry or thirsty driving you to excess and the feeling of just not wanting to do anything."

Booth nodded slowly. "Ok, I'll buy that. What are you getting at?"

"I think I know something that might stop them. As with any feeling, how do you get rid of it, get it to go away?" Without waiting for a reply, he plowed on. "You indulge it or neutralize it. If you're sad, you do something that makes you happy. If you're feeling sick, you rest."

"You might be onto something there Sweets. Assuming you're right, how do we deal with each sin?"

"Well, let's go down the list. Since we don't know which two no longer exist, we gotta cover them all. First, Anger. How do you neutralize anger? I punch a pillow."

"Somehow I don't think that'll do it. A fight maybe?"

"That makes sense. It would appease the feeling of anger, get all that energy out. Good." Sweets scribbled it down in the memo pad he had in his jacket pocket. "Ok, Envy. Envy is wanting something someone else has. So, getting what is coveted should be effective in making it, for lack of a better term, die."

"Right. So it depends on what the host wants. We just have to make sure it gets it."

"Precisely." Sweets made more notes in his pad, then chewed on the pen cap. "Gluttony?"

"Lots of food, lots of drink. How much though?"

"Until the feeling is sated," Sweets stated.

"Well, I know that, but we have limited resources here Sweets."

"Hopefully, that was one of them we don't need to worry about. We'll play it by ear. Sloth?"

"Make 'em get up and do…stuff," Booth suggested. He didn't have a clue.

"Another work in progress," Sweets murmured; he couldn't think of anything better either. "What about Lust?"

That was easy. "Sex." God, he hoped one of the women had that sin. If it was Hodgins or Zach, he was going to be hard pressed to get rid of that one. Maybe he could make Sweets do it.

"Ok, Avarice?"

"Avarice: a desire to gain and keep wealth. So, give wealth."

"Not that easy Agent Booth. I just paid my rent and phone bill. I have next to nothing."

"Yea, me too." He was struck with an idea. "Hodgins. He has all kinds of wealth. If it's not him that has the avarice sin, then we just give his wealth."

"Ok, not sure how we'll do that, but I'll make a note and we'll figure it out later." Sweets jotted down more lines in the notepad. "Last, but not least, we have pride. Pride is the feeling of superiority over others. It makes sense that besting the host in something would get rid of that feeling, bring it down a peg. What that something is will depend on who has that sin."

"Great. Are we set? Can we actually do something now before the Keeper finds one of our friends?"

"Yes. But, how do we find them? They could be anywhere."

"Maybe. How did you feel when you woke up?"

Sweets frowned. "I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. Of course, that was on top of the slap you gave me. There was no need to hit me that hard."

Booth rolled his eyes. "Point is, they probably felt that bad or worse. Where would you go?"

"Home," Sweets said.

"Exactly. The Keeper was at the lab. It's following people on foot. Cam's place is the closest to the Jeffersonian. We'll kill her sin first. Hopefully we're not too late."

"All right. Let's do this!" Despite his apprehension, Sweets was excited. Finally, he was going to get a piece of the action.

**A/N: Hope you liked it! Thanks for reading!**


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